


Little Bird

by Angryangryowl



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Embarrassment, Frottage, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 08:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryangryowl/pseuds/Angryangryowl
Summary: Whilst Oswald is working as a waiter in Don Maroni's restaurant, the Don encourages him to relax and share a little food and wine...





	Little Bird

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostOfDorothyStreet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostOfDorothyStreet/gifts).



> I'm not even sorry

Oswald has to admit, the one thing that has really changed since being employed by Maroni was his reaction times. He can turn what should have been a yelp as his boss’ thick arm catches him around his waist into a delighted laugh by the time he's settled in the larger man’s lap.

‘You can relax now, take a load off!’ Maroni says amicably, his arm still tight around Oswald’s waist. 

‘You look so tense, kid’ he murmurs lower, closer to his ear. ‘Relax. Have something to eat.’

It's a command rather than a request. Maroni’s grip around his waist is firm enough to speak for itself. But Oswald allows a blissful smile to spread wide across his face, the startled innocence to return to his voice.

‘Oh! Sure! Think I forgot, it looks delicious though.’

‘It is, really..’ Maroni watches him intently, shifting so that Oswald is sat sideways across his lap, one arm supporting his back, like a child.

He wonders if he should exaggerate as he spears an olive from a small dish by the Don’s plate, plucking it from the toothpick with his fingers before popping it into his mouth. 

‘Mmmmm!’ He's never really liked olives, they're rich with oil and salt to start with and he can't stand the bitterness afterwards, clinging to the tip of his tongue. He chases the mouthful with a gulp of wine.

‘Good, huh?’ The Don’s voice is rough and low next to his ear. The sharp tannins of wine and cigar smoke scratch at Oswald’s nostrils. And he’s suddenly very aware of the man’s full lips, slightly crooked front teeth, and the heat of another body against his own.

It wouldn’t do to be too hasty here. He needs Maroni’s favour, and this isn’t exactly unpleasant. 

Maroni waves to dismiss the last few wait staff clearing tables in the empty restaurant. The Don wanting to entertain privately isn't so unusual, and most of them are smart enough to avert their eyes,and pretend not to see the giggling potwash boy settled in Maroni's lap. His wide palm settles high on Oswald’s thigh.

'Now why don't you try a couple of the tomatoes?’ He murmurs, an order, in a gentle, dreamy time right next to his ear. He slips a slice between Oswald's lips with his fingers, letting broad fingertips trail down over his chin and chest.

Oswald can feel his heart flutter under his hands. Suppresses a whimper at the touch, misleadingly gentle over his breastbone and ribs. The tomatoes are better. Rich, just firm under his teeth, fragrant with basil and pepper.

'Like that, little bird?’

Oswald has no idea if he's referring to the food or his warm, heavy hands on him, but he nods, dumbly, all the same.

'Good.’ the Don croons, the alcohol on his breath teasing at Oswald's nostrils 'Because I'm gonna take real good care of you..’

The hand supporting his back slips down,over the small of his back, his rear end, the touch now unmistakably more than friendly.

'I think…’ Oswald's voice bubbles up, unbidden, from somewhere inside him 'I think I'd like that. Thank you, Don Maroni. You're very generous..’ He almost whispers the last phrase, close to his cheek. He feels sweetly giddy with pleasure as a wine glass is offered, pressed to his lips.

'And a little of that, it's a good year..’ Maroni coaxes.

Oswald hums his approval after a long sip, giggling as the glass is taken away.

Maroni’s hand is on him again, his chest, his belly, and the blush flaring in his cheeks prickles down over neck and shoulders. He feels bolder after a little sip, stroking the tip of one finger down over the Don's slightly bulbous nose, full lips and chin 'You're so good to me..’ 

For one awful moment he thinks he's gone too far. Fifteen different apologies bubble in his throat whilst his mouth gapes.

Maroni stares at him, considering him for a moment, before a wide grin spreads across his face 'You work hard, you know what's good for you, good for me. Maybe a pretty little thing like you deserves a break.’

He accentuates the last word by running the tip of his finger over Oswald's nose,the sharp cleft of his chin, and stroking over his bottom lip 'Open up..’

Oswald’s lips part, almost hypnotised by the movement, suckling hesitantly at the tip, tasting salt and tobacco, until Maroni croons 'Pretty sure you could do better than that, given a chance, huh?’

'Mmmm..’ He agrees around his mouthful, letting his tongue lap at the rough tips. He's never done this before. With fingers, or cock, even if Fish has previously suggested he might enjoy it. But the idea of getting on his knees, taking the hot length of him currently pressed against his thigh into his mouth, Maroni’s wide palm cupping the back of his head as he takes him greedily down, well….right now that sounds pretty good. For reasons which, he realises, have nothing to do with wanting Maroni's favour.

Maroni shifts him then, and the ease with which he lifts him up, strong hands almost encompassing his narrow waist, sends a delicious thrill through him. Goosebumps prickle over his forearms. His heart pounds. He's achingly hard in his trousers, helplessly sensitive. And suddenly he's straddling Maroni's lap, the thick bulge in his trousers pressed against his own erection. One heavy hand cupping his cheek.

'Maybe we’ll see another time, huh? See what you can do with that pretty mouth…’ 

Oswald nods, licking his lips. If it wasn't for his damn leg, he'd be knelt between the larger man's knees right now, he's certain.

'You'd like that?’ Maroni coaxes. His eyes are dark, fixed on Oswald like a prize. A little dangerous but wanting, possessive, and maybe for a while, it'd be nice to be all his.

'Oh yes…’ Says a broken little voice, something like his own

'Tell me, little bird...so I know we're on the same page here..’

'I…’ Oswald's breath hitches in his throat, he leans closer like someone might hear, biting back a moan at the almost irresistible friction between his legs 'I want to suck you.’ He ignores the hot blush flaring through his cheeks and over his ears, and the thoughts of what his mother might say. 'I want to suck your cock. Taste you.’

The last couple of works are a wrecked little whisper near Maroni's ear, and Oswald yelps in surprise when he's sucking roughly at his neck, a scrape of teeth that softens to wet kisses up over his earlobe and jaw.

'Mmmhh...kinda hoped that was the case..’ Maroni murmurs, finally tipping his head to kiss Oswald’s mouth, sucking greedily on his bottom lip. 

Oswalds quickly lost in it, smoke and red wine, and a firm hand on his waist as he rocks their hips together. He whimpers at first, unsure what's allowed, fearing the consequences if he's asked to leave right now. He clings, one arm around the Don's neck, the other stroking over his lapels, loosening his tie a little.

But Maroni's hand is on his wrist, guiding it down, between his legs, until Oswald's long fingers are tracing the thick ridge of his erection.

'Can I?’ he asks, crooning close to his ear, hand fumbling with the fastening to his trousers.

'Sure..’ Maroni’s voice is a low rumble, rough with arousal, as Oswald slips his hand beneath the thick wool, past underwear, until his fingers wrap around his cock, pulling it free.

He's seen this before, a few times. Various videos and magazines he’s hidden guiltily. He tries not to think about that, with his head leant on Maroni's shoulder, hand slowly pumping his thick, flushed cock until his breathing quickens. Until he's purring 'My, my, little birdie…’, nudging Oswald's chin up to kiss him again, hungrily. 

Licking into his mouth until Oswald's squirming, feels like he'll die, like his heart will give out if Maroni doesn't touch him. 

'Oh G-god…’ he chokes out at the heat and press of his palm, finally, through his trousers. Palming roughly over his erection,thick fingertips stroking over his balls through the fabric. This sends a spark through him, igniting the arousal pooled low in his belly.

'You like that? Told you I was gonna take care of you…’ Maroni purrs as Oswald unashamedly rocks his hips against his hand, chasing that sweet spot of just enough pressure, enough heat, pumping his hand erratically as he tries to keep pace.

'Fuck, that's good…’ He groans, as Oswald tightens his grip a little 'Don't stop..’

Oswald doesn't dare. He feels...desirable, powerful, drunk on arousal and Maroni's growling voice and greedy mouth. The small, obscene noises of his hand working his cock, flushed and slick with precome. And the thoughts of more. That with just a little less clothing, they could be fucking.

He thinks of himself, shirt untucked and rumpled, lips, chest and neck kiss-bitten, Maroni's strong arms around his waist, rocking them together. Making love to him, slow and hard, easing him down each new inch of that thick cock until he can't think. Telling him how pretty he is.

It nearly tips him over the edge, he hadn't noticed his low, erratic begging until now, murmuring with his eyes closed ‘Please, please..’ as Maroni squeezes him through the thin cloth, smiling as he rocks against his hand.

'That's it..’ Maroni murmurs, sounding almost kind 'Let me watch you…’

'I can't-’ He gasps, and with a low whimper he comes in his underwear like a teenager.

Maroni's meaty fingers close over his own, finishing himself in a few firm strokes, groaning into the hollow of Oswald's neck as he spills over both of their fingers.

They sit, clinging boneless to each other for a few long moments, breathing and resting their foreheads together.

After a while, Oswald finally speaks 'Perhaps I should…’

'You’d better get home.’ Maroni says with a knowing smile 'I think I'd like you over to my place tomorrow. To talk a little more seriously about your future…’

Oswald can't quite keep the grin from his face 'Of course!’

He has the whole evening to imagine just what they might talk about.


End file.
